


The Spaces Between.

by Innu



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Birthday, C137cest, Dancing, Drunk Morty, Flirting, Grinding, M/M, More Feels, Pining Morty, admitting feelings, feels trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-01-07 14:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12235206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innu/pseuds/Innu
Summary: Rick drags Morty out on an adventure on his birthday. One thing leads to another and Morty tells Rick about his true feelings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is sadly no porn, some pretty sexual themes, definitely NSFW. **
> 
> I <3 comments.
> 
> *No beta*

"Rick, it's way too early for this and it's - I mean- Don't you- ugh," Morty whined from the passenger seat of the spaceship, his face pressed to the glass. Morty's cheeks were puffed up in an unattractive pout, his lips pursed as he refused to turn his face toward the ever silent and stoic Rick. 

Morty was really annoyed, his body language said that, but he didn't say much else as Rick didn't even bother to answer him or even look his way. 

It was then in those minutes he decided he would wallow in self-pity and his own thoughts. It wasn't like Rick was giving him any explanation or attention.  
What a way to spend a birthday. 

This "being dragged out of bed in the wee hours of the morning" wouldn't have been so bad if it were under normal circumstances, if there was a possibility that Rick was doing this as a way to spend his birthday with him, but Morty forgets his life is never normal and his grandfather didn't care about such trivial things. Morty had already long since come to the conclusion that his life would never be cookie cutter clean because if it were, he would still be asleep in his bed and his grandfather would be a chill guy who liked baseball or something like that.

Morty smirked to the thought almost forgetting he was hurtling thousands of miles an hour through the cosmos.

It wasn't that he was necessarily upset that his grandfather hadn't said anything about his birthday or the fact that Morty already knew he was a little too sauced to even comprehend what day of the week it was. Morty could live with those things, they were all too normal in his world of Rick and Morty Adventures. It was something a lot more simple and a lot weaker in the eyes of Rick, for what truly left him with regret and annoyance was the feelings Rick often gave him, the feeling of unimportance. 

Maybe, it was foolish of him to think that way, to take it to heart when Rick wasn't the most perfect of men or maybe it was because he truly deep down wanted Rick to notice these things about him.  
Morty would never admit it but with his father gone and his tough front up, he still missed being noticed. His mother was absorbed in her own life, far too concentrated on her problems and her own ego to see that they were problems and well that was just how it was expected to be. 

It was sad to think that his life had so recently boiled down to feeling depressed at five am on a spaceship in the middle of nowhere on his birthday but it was what it was.  
His eyes turned to look back out at the flashing by night and the fading planet. 

Space looked the same no matter what time of day it was. It was the same all-consuming black with pinpricks of white dotting the seemingly endless canvas. It was a true spectacle to behold. Sometimes if they were lucky enough a planet would glide passed, maybe a milky way, something Morty had seen a million times but it never failed to amaze him. His face was often times still pressed to watch the balls of millions of years old gas fade behind them. It was a rare opportunity that they would be able to use the craft, a lot of time Rick opted for the portal gun; it was quick, in and out, twenty-minute adventure or so he lied. But space while being the same never really came off as the same and that happened to be one of the things Morty still found breathtaking. There were thousands of versions of space and it expanded endlessly, a true and total escape from anything and everything. 

Maybe, that was what he liked the best about it, the escape. 

The empty vacuum of space meant there was no judgment, there was no missing his family, fighting with his mother-

Morty stole a glance at Rick and frowned. 

There would be no Rick either, everything would come to an end. If he really thought about it he would come to a conclusion that it was some kind of existential projection of his own eventual death but he never really thought things through like that. It was like Rick said, he was too stupid for those things. 

Instead Morty told himself that it was beautiful for different reasons and that he liked the deep dark reaches of space because it was one of the few places where he didn't feel the need to be something he wasn't; he didn't feel the need to impress Jessica, to argue with his mom, to hate his dad for being pathetic. 

Morty knew it would be lonely, drifting away and despite hating to admit it, he would miss one thing in his life because it was the only thing that had ever been constant; Morty had left behind plenty of families, lives and Jessica's but one thing never changed.

Morty glanced once more over at Rick, his teeth now worrying into his lip as he thought. 

It was probably because it was so early in the morning that he was having these deep reflective thoughts or maybe it was because the silence in the cab was as consuming as the emptiness of space.  
He let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. This was one hell of a way to spend his birthday and his sixteenth to be exact. That meant that for two years now he had been "adventuring" with Rick, two years that he had been pining after the same Jessica who went back to her same boyfriend and two years since his mom and dad split up. 

A lot of people would say this was an amazing way to spend a birthday, dashing through space in a home-made craft with a genius inventor, but those people didn't realize that the novelty long wears out.  
Stars zipped passed quickly disappearing behind them in an inky black, barely traceable by Morty's naked eye.  
Squinting he tried his very best not to focus on the earth fading behind them and rather on the fact that his grandfather had dragged him out of bed at the crack of dawn. 

Morty yawned, his eyes tearing up in the corners but he was still pouting so he didn't bother to wipe it off. 

Rick had been silent for the most part, at least since they had gotten into the ship. 

When Rick had come into his room, he was yelling something about they needed to leave right now; big mission, Morty, now, but after that he refused to elaborate, not that Morty had really pressed, having been jerked out of the most delicious of dreams of Jessica.

No, Morty had just dragged himself out of bed, wondering if this was going to be his life until he died.  
It wasn't even daylight outside. 

Having dressed with a lackluster amount of enthusiasm, Morty had to listen to the impatient taps of his grandfather's fingers on the door and then his foot. It didn't hurry him though. Morty figured it was payback for waking him up at five am for some stupid mission that probably could have waited until later, much later. Anyways, it was his birthday and he would take as much time as he needed. 

Clearing his throat, Morty leaned back against the too stiff leather chair in the ship, his long, thin legs dangling in front of him. He wanted to ask Rick again, he wanted to ask him why he was being so quiet, this was so unlike him. 

"So- What- uh..." Morty searched for the words, breaking the uncomfortable silence in the small two-person ship. "uh- What-what mission are we goin- heading on, Rick?" He was pressing the matter but it was strange. 

Most of the time Rick was rattling off minute details about the impossible mission and explaining how Morty was going to risk his life for some stupid cause. He was never this quiet.  
Morty frowned. Rick was hiding something. 

He tried again, clearing his throat a little louder than before, "AHEM- I-I said, Rick, What kind-"

"We're almost there, Morty, How about- Just, be quiet, Morty. I'm focusing, I need- I need concentration." Rick cut him off, his eyes side glancing at the teen. He looked tired but his eyes had the same kind of excited, manic gleam in them as they always did. 

Morty nodded, opting not to answer as he leaned back, maybe he would nap until they got there. Closing his eyes, he settled a little against the window. 

Whatever mission they were about to rush into he figured he might as well be a little alert before he was chewed up and spit out.

The sound of thumping music awoke Morty, it was loud and vibrating the entire ship which he now realized had come to a complete stop. 

Shifting to sit upward, Morty squinted around the huge parking garage-like structure. It was amazing, not in a holy shit, what beauty way, but rather in the sheer size of it. Even from just his quick glance, he could see hundreds upon thousands of different ships, aliens ships from different planets and solar systems.

Morty sucked in a breath, his eyes the size of saucers as he turned to look at Rick. 

"Where-Where are we, Rick?" He asked, his eyes then narrowing. "Why is it so loud?" Morty was wincing, his hand coming to his ear. 

The music while not being so much heard, could be seen, vibrations shook through the ship from the sheer volume and a distant techno-sound drifted as Rick turned the key. The vibration appeared to intensify, rattling off some loose items on the dash before falling to the ground at Morty's feet. 

"Come on, Morty," Rick answered, a burp erupting from him suddenly as he lifted the door hatch on his side, stepping out. "We can't, can't- be late."

Morty climbed from inside too, suspicion rising up inside him mingling with anxiety. Whatever this was, he wasn't a very social person and loud club-like scenes made him completely nauseous. 

Rick was already walking in front of Morty, his thumb pushing the alarm button on his ship, beeping it twice before pocketing it. His stride was confident, concise, nothing to match Morty's stumbling and half-running to keep up. 

He reached out, grabbing a hold of Rick's white lab coat, his fingers fisting it as he jogged to keep up. 

"Rick- Rick, you're going too fast!" Morty gasped, his hand now tugging on Rick's jacket to slow him down. He was way too tired to start running a marathon and especially before there were any enemies. "I- I can barely keep- you're going too fast."

Morty was expecting an angry look when Rick glanced back at him but instead it was a sort of soft one, one that Morty had rarely ever seen and was barely ever reserved for him. 

His heartbeat quickened, thumping in his chest as he stared back at his grandfather dumbfounded. 

"We have to hurry, Morty. We're gonna be late." 

Rick's pace had slowed enough that Morty could walk cautiously behind him, his hand still twisted into that white jacket for dear life. Morty might have been turning sixteen but he was still the same. He still had the same anxieties, the same fears that plagued him and this, this filled him with worry.

The walk across what would appear to be an interstellar space garage was a long and grueling one, one that left Morty a little breathless and cursing that he was completely out of shape.  
At the far end of the parking lot and after what seemed like a four-mile walk, there was a door. It wasn't a particularly special door but rather a simple black one with one of those slots like you would see in the mafia movies. 

Morty almost laughed but he held it in as they approached. He didn't want to be reprimanded by Rick and he surely didn't want to make an ass out of himself in case these people behind the door were some kind of space mafiosos. 

He smiled again to himself.

As Rick knocked, Morty let go of his jacket and now took a very blank stance beside him. He had learned a long time ago to act tough, not that Rick ever let that last for long, but he found it kept people away from him longer. Rick was such a bad ass, so they assumed he had to be one too, right?

Whoever was on the other side of this door, whatever the mission they were going on, Morty knew it was going to be dangerous. He was prepared. Clenching his fists, he waited. 

The slot on the black metal door clanged open to reveal a not so human face but rather one of a grotesque alien with seven eyes and a pig nose. It was really too dark to distinguish coloring but from what Morty could see, he could already tell he was a Teflax from Gorpulon 10. 

His nose was already wrinkling as he imagined the smell. 

The alien belched out some words and flapped around on the other side. Its voice was rough and garbled coming out like snot in the back of someone's throat. 

Morty cringed but Rick responded blankly. 

Much to Morty's surprise and not so much, the metal piece slid shut and after a second the door opened to the sound of ear-deafening techno music. The music and lights were enough to cause delirium but Morty reached out, gripping Rick's jacket once more following him inside. 

"It's super loud," Morty yelled over the music, only for all of it to cut at once. His voice echoed as if he were on the top of Mount Everest and thousands of eyes were glued on him. 

Morty paled, his hands immediately fisting tighter into Rick's jacket, unsure, uncomfortable and a little scared. 

"I Uh-" He began to explain himself for what he said, his heartbeat thrumming behind his rib cage as if it were trying to escape. "Uh-" Morty looked up to Rick for help but Rick was pulling away from him, leaving him standing there.

Morty was in shock, his entire body stiff as he stared up at Rick, his mouth was slightly agape. Every part of him was clamming up and a trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face. What was this all about? Was Rick going to offer him to some kind of alien space lord? Why was everyone just staring at him like that? 

His breath was quickening as a full-blown panic attack began to surface. He didn't have Rick to keep him stable, he didn't know how to speak in front of all of these eyes. They were staring, just staring at him, unmoving. 

He could feel it, the anxiety setting in, the dizziness-

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MORTY!" thousands of voices shouted this from every part of the gigantic nightclub, rattling through every part of the huge place. The eyes, the eyes all smiled at him and arms, tentacles, and robotic augmentations rose up to throw cheers in his way. 

Morty despite his shock could only focus on one voice, Rick, who said it low, his eye contact strong and constant with his own as the rest of the place shattered with noise around him. They weren't alone and yet, it felt intimate. 

Tears were welling up in Morty's eyes as he suddenly rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Rick's neck in a hug. He never-minded that the other's around them might have thought it was weird, they didn't know what they were and frankly, he didn't care at this moment. 

Elation was a good word to describe the feeling that was going through him, but Morty couldn't describe it, the thought, the unrealistic idea that Rick, his grandfather who cared about no one but himself orchestrated a birthday for him and one that probably cost him a shit ton of money was overwhelming. 

He was blubbering like a baby now, mumbling into Rick's neck like a drunk about how happy he was. 

Rick groaned, his hand having already patted three times on the teen's shoulder, "Come on now, Morty, You're- you're sixteen now, time to act like a- you gotta be a man, Morty. Crying on my shoulder isn't gonna get you laid." Rick looked around the room and then detached himself from Morty, "Why don't we- How 'bout we get a celebratory drink, hm?" His blue eyebrow quirked as he didn't really wait for an answer but rather began to walk away. 

Morty blinked but padded after quickly, his hand once again grabbing onto Rick's Lab coat for connection in this all too crowded place. 

Every few feet someone was stopping Morty, wishing him a happy birthday and he nodded awkwardly and pushed on, following Rick to a seat at the large bar. 

Climbing into a chair, Morty tilted a little to look at Rick, "Am I- Am I even allowed to drink, Rick? Are we gonna get in trouble?" His face scrunched a little suspiciously as he waited for an answer. 

This was all a little overwhelming for Morty. Hell, just a few hours before he was sitting in a spaceship feeling sorry for himself and now he was the unwanted center of the party having a drink with his grandfather. 

This was definitely the life. 

Rick shrugged as he waved down the rather busty alien bartender, his long fingers wiggling to beckon her over. 

"I don't know, Morty, play it cool. You'll be fine."

Morty frowned. 

Play it cool, he says. 

"So, what can I get you?" The purple haired alien asked, leaning a little further forward than necessary to present Rick with her rack. 

Morty scowled, glancing between Rick who was obviously enjoying the show and this alien hussy who was flirting with Rick. Rick was here for his birthday, not to sneak off with some alien bitch with a nice pair of tits. 

He shook his head. Morty couldn't believe it, he was a little bit jealous. 

"How about two-two Trivexian tonics?" Rick held up two long fingers, spreading them open, a sly grin crossing his lips as he looked up at the Alien woman.  
She smirked and winked at him, "Anything for you." 

Morty was frowning even more so than before his eyes following her until she disappeared to the other side of the bar. She was annoying. He just thought Rick should know that.  
"You- You know, Ri-Rick, She probably- probably flirts with everyone like that." 

Rick laughed as he looked over at Morty. "You think so, huh-huh, Morty?" He leaned over his long-fingered hand curling around Morty's shoulder. Rick was dipping in closer, his mouth almost to Morty's ear, "I think- I think, you're jealous, Morty." 

All of the blood in Morty's body made a b-line for his face, a blush cruising all the way down his neck and filling his ears. He turned away, embarrassed and a little ashamed. Rick wasn't even smashed yet and he was already talking nonsense. 

Morty decided to defend himself, especially now that he saw the woman returning, "I'm- I'm not jealous, Rick. I'm making a point. She's a bartender, her job is to flirt."

Rick's hand tightened on Morty's shoulder as one last time, he breathed, "Jealous."

The bartender handed Rick both of the glowing purple shots and then smirked before sashaying away, once again igniting that annoyance back in Morty. 

Another laugh from Rick drew Morty's attention and he blushed again, glaring at Rick, "I'm not-"

Rick smirked, holding out the drink, "Just drink, Morty." He leaned forward slightly, "It'll loosen you up." He winked at Morty and Morty died. 

His heartbeat was tap dancing in his chest and all Morty could think was, god, he loved it when his grandfather talked to him like this. Morty had always known his grandfather was sort of a flirt, okay, a huge flirt. He also knew that he snuck off to have sex with various women, men or other things. In simple terms, Rick had little to no morals, not that that meant Morty didn't. But even despite himself he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be a woman or man wooed by Rick Sanchez. 

Morty's eyes dropped back to the glass in Rick's hand and in all in one decision he decided, what the hell? It's his birthday. 

"Now, drink it slow-"

Morty knocked back the entire purple glowing shot and like fire, it burned the whole way into his stomach. Instantly, he was not so gracefully coughing and gagging on the fruity yet heady taste of alien liquor. Morty gripped the counter hard, trying to swallow back the taste and gain some kind of control. 

He groaned. 

"or not." Rick shrugged as he took his glass and raised it to his lips, "I guess, bottoms up. Right, Morty?" With that, he downed the entire shot glass as Morty did. Rick shook his head back and forth afterward but a smile crossed his lips.

"Hell of a taste." 

Already Morty could feel it, a warm tingling dizziness which swept over him in waves. The warmth washed through his limbs and tingled deep in his stomach; it made him feel light but heavy at the same time. 

Rick's hand was what finally drew Morty's staggering attention, his eyes lazily shifting over to look at the old man. 

"Are you-you alright, Morty?" He asked, a smirk curling his lips, "You know, Morty, You're- you're a real lightweight."

His hand tightened on Morty's shoulder and Morty just stared up at Rick. He didn't even hear the words Rick said and instead focused on the movements of his mouth. Rick's mouth wasn't the best mouth he had ever seen, but frankly, anything compared to Jessica's plump, full and pink lips fell short but Rick's, his mouth was thin, pressed often in an unhappy hard line but right now looked soft enough.  
He wanted to taste it, to confirm what he had already imagined was true. This wasn't the first time he had shamelessly thought of the taste of Rick's mouth and it surely wasn't going to be the last.  
But to Morty, he knew the taste of it by heart, not because he had actually kissed Rick but because he knew what he smelled like, the cheap liquor which wafted off every part of him. Morty never had a problem with that smell, that taste because it was something so unbearably Rick that he had come to associate it. But now was different, he knew Rick's mouth would taste sweet, much like his own lips twinged with the Alien berry shot. He could smell it the closer he came, a sticky, sweet scent that lingered just passed his words.

Morty's small pink tongue slid out, running slowly across his lips, tasting them before disappearing back inside. His eyes locked with Rick's before he felt himself swaying and looking away.

When did Rick become so attractive? 

Glancing back, another slow smile curled across his lips as he leaned back forward into Rick's space. 

Morty reached out, gently brushing his fingers along Rick's face and lips and then a giggle bubbled up inside of him. He was blushing, the heat from the liquor staining his face.  
He was acting like a fool but for some reason, Morty couldn't find it in himself to care. 

Rick tilted his head, looking at that hand that had caressed his face and then to Morty who giggled. "Are you sure you're feeling alright, Morty?" He leaned closer, his eyebrows raising.  
They were practically inches away as if telling a secret that was to be shared just between the two of them.

Another laugh bubbled from Morty as he leaned in to meet Rick's face a little closer, almost close enough for a kiss, "Yeah- Are you- Are you alr- I feel great, Rick, never better. How 'bout another?" He wobbled a bit but came back seated after a solid second. "I'm okay." 

Morty was far from okay, his head was swimming and all he could feel was a warmth that filled him. It was consuming but most of all it made him giddy. He wanted to do something, he wanted to move and most of all he wanted Rick's attention on him. 

Rick's eyebrow rose as he looked away and raised a hand beckoning the Bartender over once more. 

As if she had been waiting for Rick to summon her, she bounced to attention, her breasts jiggling. She returned quickly, ready and willing for a Rick. 

Morty pouted. She was a little too happy to drop everything and come at a wag of Rick's finger. Even in his haze filled mind, he could feel the jealousy.

Didn't she know Rick was his? 

"What can I get for you?" She purred, leaning once more on the counter, "How did you like the first?" 

A glare surfaced on Morty's face and he stiffened unhappily. Even if he hated her for being a skank, she still was pretty, not that Rick would care either way. She was tall and curvy, her long legs appearing longer in a pair of tight black high-waisted shorts. Her ass was perfect and round, one Morty imagined Rick would latch onto in a heartbeat, his hands embedding into her thick thighs as he-

He shook he head taking a swallow of the driest spit he had ever tasted in his life. Morty knew what he was thinking was wrong and it was only going to make things worse but for some reason, he couldn't stop.  
This woman, this alien bitch was talking to Rick, his grandfather, his Rick and flirting with him. His fingers clenched in on themselves.

All Morty could hear was her voice, seductive, too seductive and all he could think about was how she was showing off her tits to Rick like they were anything special. 

Morty stiffened and before Rick could speak he leaned over wrapping his arms around Rick's neck  
.  
"R-rick, I want-" Morty didn't realize he was doing it but his voice dropped an octave lower, gaining almost a pouty, sexual whine, "I want to dan-dance." He rubbed his chest against Rick's shoulder and side, his mouth sloppily against Rick's ear. 

The woman hesitated as she backed up a bit. Looking to the side, she smiled and held up a hand. 

"Maybe, I'll come back in a few." She winked at Rick and then sauntered off, giving her attention to another pair on the other side of the bar. 

"Sh-shit, Morty, what- what're you doing?" Rick asked, glaring up at him, his hand pushing on Morty's hips, "I'm tryin- I was going to get us drinks. Isn't that what you wanted, huh?" 

Morty only heard buzzing as he laughed a little placing his head on Rick's shoulder. 

"I don't wanna drink, Ri-rick, I want- I wanna dance, I wanna let loose, ya know?" he was nuzzling into Rick's neck, "I wanna- I think I'm drunk. "

Rick rolled his eyes but now instead of pushing Morty's hips away, he held them in place. "Yeah- You tell me. You're like every drunk girl at a college party, shit, Morty." He rose, looking down at him. "You don't even know what you want but whatever- Your birthday, ri-right?"

A big smile curled across Morty's lips as he hugged his grandfather tighter, rising up onto his toes. 

"Yeah, alright, You- You'll dance with me, Ri-rick?" His words were a little more than slurred. 

How strong was that alien liquor? 

Morty listened for Rick's sigh of defeat and smiled when it puffed out, caressing his cheek. He giggled, dangling from Rick almost limp. 

"Come- let's go." Morty murmured, stumbling forward, only to have Rick catch him with a tsk. 

"Fuck, Morty, Just- just slow down." Rick groaned it, obviously exasperated but he allowed Morty to lead him forward none the less. 

The music that thumped through the building was nothing Morty had ever heard before. It was mechanical with jarring beats and thumping bass. Surely, not anything he would know how to dance to but then again Morty had never danced before. 

Pausing at the entrance of the dance floor, Morty glance back to see what Rick was doing or at least his facial expressions. Maybe he was sobering up but Morty swallowed back the sudden nervousness when he saw Rick's face looking down at him. 

Rick always looked so confident and put together. It gave him a little bit of reassurance but not enough to allow himself to walk out onto that dance floor. 

"What- what is it, Morty?" Rick asked he was suddenly close again, his upper chest pressed to Morty's shoulder blades. "I thought you wanted to dance?" 

He felt himself being nudged a little but once again dug his heels into the ground. 

"Uh- I- I- I- R-rick-" He was fumbling over words. Morty still wanted to dance but it was nerve-wracking. 

Rick reached out, wrapping his fingers around his wrist. "Let's- come on, Morty. You- you wanted to dance." 

Morty allowed himself to be lead out into a more secluded part of the dance floor, one where it was darker than usual and not as many people, things or aliens would be watching them.

Despite being drunk, Morty was a little thankful for this. Alcohol gave him some confidence but not that much. 

Rick sighed as he looked around and then back down at Morty. He reached inside of his lab coat taking a swig from his silver flask. 

"Well- What- we're here, Morty, dance your little heart out." Rick waved the flask in a circle as he tipped his head back again. 

Morty was pouting, his lips pursed fully. 

"I- I don't wanna dance by- by myself, Rick, I want- you need to dance with me." He reached up wrapping his arms around Rick's neck, his smaller framed body swaying into his. "I want you to dance with me like- like how-how you dance with your girls." 

Morty could feel Rick stiffen and a pair of hands gripped onto his hips pushing some space between them. 

"Morty, I think- you- you're drunk." Rick scratched the back of his head, "You should, maybe- let's find somewhere for you to sit. Chill out a bit." He moved to pulled Morty away from the dance floor.

Drunk or not, Morty protested, his heels digging into the ground as he pulled back. He didn't want to go sit down. He just wanted Rick to dance with him, to give him all of the attention that he craved, that he had always craved. 

Morty would never admit it out loud but seeing Rick flirting with other people made him jealous. He hated it. Morty wanted him to stop because he wanted those things for himself. 

He knew he was messed up, that it was wrong but so many things that they had done in their lives were considered wrong. They killed people, ruined lives, brought down governments, abandoned so many versions of their own blood that he couldn't even remember them all. The pair of them committed sins upon sins and this was just one more Morty chalked up to it. 

Who cares if he had inappropriate feelings for Rick? Who cares if he was jealous because Rick flirted with people beside him? Who or what was really out there to tell him that he was a monster? Morty had seen monsters in his lifetime. He had watched a man who had a loving wife and daughter disappear for years and come back a drunk and broken. 

Morty didn't want that for Rick. He wanted to take those things from him and more selfishly keep those redeeming qualities of Rick for himself.

He didn't want to feel the way he felt with Rick anymore, he didn't want to be unimportant and Rick proved to him today that he didn't just think about himself. Rick had planned this for him and well, drunk or not, Morty was going to get want he wanted. 

"I- I, No, Rick, I want to- I'm fine, okay?" He looked up at the older man and frowned, "It-I want you to treat me like you treat those girls you flirt with all the time. I-I want that."  
Maybe it was the alcohol that was making him brave enough to say these things or maybe it was the fact that Morty had been thinking them for a while. Whatever it was, it was all coming to the surface now.  
He took a deep breath, his face coloring even redder as Rick just stared at him unmoving. 

Morty was about to throw in the towel when Rick finally blinked and ran his fingers back through his hair. 

"I- I don't even know what that means, Morty. What are you asking?" His eyes shifted then from the ceiling to which he tilted his head up to look at and the back to Morty's face. He didn't come close but rather stood his distance, his blue eyebrow quirked. 

This was it. It was now or never and he wasn't going to chicken out because Rick was asking him to explain himself. Morty was tired of chickening out. 

Drunk Morty was a new Morty. 

Morty swallowed. God, he hated being put on the spot like this. 

"Uh- wha-what I mean is- I just." Morty's face couldn't get any redder if it wanted to, already it felt as if all the blood in his body was sitting there. "I mean- Rick- I just-just- I want you to treat me-"

Rick frowned, his brow furrowing, "I heard you the first time, Morty, get to the point." His arms now folded over his chest as he stared at Morty from the few steps away. 

His heartbeat was slamming against his ribs and Morty was starting to feel like he needed another drink if he was going to be able to get these words out. 

Morty took a deep breath and balled his fists, "I want- want you to-to flirt with me like you do the girls you want to fuck- I-I-I want to feel what that's-" his eyes shifted up, his words trailing off as he waited for some type of reaction. 

"You want me to flirt with you, Morty?" Rick's face was blank, completely unreadable. "Honestly, Morty- that's-" He rolled his eyes but let out a sigh as he looked back to Morty. "Really? Of all the things, Morty, of everything you could ask from me- You could have anyone in this room and I would get them for you." He shook his head, fishing inside of his lab coat once again. He removed the flask and took a long hard drink, draining it in a few gulps. 

Morty sighed, a little defeated and now definitely a little sobered. He should have known better, drunk or not, sins or not, it wasn't the same. 

He was stupid and now he knew what Rick always says was true. How could he have judged it so wrong, to think that maybe, just maybe, Rick would give him what he wanted?  
It only made sense that Rick would reject him like this, he was his grandfather and birthday or not this was an impossible request. 

Wrapping his arms around his own waist, Morty hung his head. He wanted to cry, he wanted to change everything, to go back and time and erase what he said. Things would never be the same again. Rick would hate him, stop going to adventures with him. 

Morty's breath hiccupped in his chest and he blinked against the tears which blurred his vision. 

He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to let Rick know how much it hurt. 

"Hey-" Rick's voice was a surprise as it came deep and low into his ear, a hand then sliding around his waist. "Hey, babe, what's going on? Are you here alone?"

Morty's eyes widened as his body was moved forward, being pulled to fit against Rick's like a spoon. Immediately, his breath hitched and he blinked away the tears on the brim of his eyelashes, each one trickling down his cheek. 

Rick's body was lean and rather taunt against him. Morty had always imagined he was terribly skinny, that he would feel Rick's bones through his skin but it was nothing like that. He could feel muscle, taunt flesh hidden beneath a small frame. 

His body was becoming hot again but for different reasons as Morty began to piece together that not only was he pressed against Rick's body but his hips were molded to the older man's, lined perfectly. 

Morty could feel everything, the very outline of Rick's flaccid dick against his own and to that realization, a throb of pure arousal shot through him. 

He was stuttering. Looking up at Rick, Morty met his gaze, only to quickly turn it away when the older man smirked and quirked his eyebrow at him. 

"There you are, princess." He breathed, his breath brushing along Morty's ear sweetly, "What's wrong, Babe? Shy all of the sudden?" 

Rick was brushing his hand along Morty's waist now, sliding it upward slow, lifting that yellow shirt of his to expose the smallest amount of pale flesh. 

Morty's voice struggled out in a gasp as he fumbled to pull his shirt down, his face turning into Rick's mouth as he spoke into his ear. Rick's breath sent tremors through him and the way the voice hit his eardrum solidified his oncoming erection. 

"R-Rick..." He whispered, barely able to find his voice to the new barrage of feelings Rick was throwing on him. 

Morty had to remind himself that he had asked for this. He wanted Rick to flirt with him like this and this was his consequence. 

"Yeah, Baby?"

Morty trembled, his breath hitching once. His arms now moved, sliding up along Rick's shoulders and around his neck slowly. Morty lifted his eyes up, hooded and unintentionally seductive to look into Rick's.  
"Dance with me, Rick." Morty breathed it, his lips coming close to Rick's ear as he raised up on his tippy toes. Elegantly, he swayed his hips to the older mans, the movement more of a grind than a fluid dance move but he was too far into this to care about semantics. 

Rick's breath caught this time and Morty relished in it, replaying it over and over in his mind as he continued his slow and thoughtful grind. 

His hips were jaggedly pushing, urging eagerly for Rick to return the motion. Morty bit his lip, his head dropping back in a way he had seen too many porn stars do but his body never ceased. Time and time again, he drew his small hips against Rick's, rubbing his now semi-hard dick to him. 

The club's sounds seemed to fade in the background, the loud jarring beats, the shouts, and hollers from the others disappearing into the back of Morty's alcohol-addled mind. All he could hear was the beat of his own heart and feel the pressure against his dick, the way Rick's fingers were gripping mercilessly into his hips, painting fingerprints into his milky flesh.

Morty was getting off on this. His eyes fluttering as he stuttered his body to Rick's. The pressure to his cock was mind-numbing but not as much as the realization that Rick was actually playing along.  
He could hear it, the low throaty groans and curses which were spilling from his grandfather's lips; they were telling him, slow down, go faster, don't do that, Morty- fuck.

Morty's arms tightened, his breath hitching once more as he brought his head forward, his lips parting almost against the flesh of Rick's throat. His own low moan bubbling out of him as he continued to basically dry hump Rick on the dance floor. 

Rick was hard now. Morty could feel it pressing against his thigh, rubbing and grinding to his flesh. He wanted it. He wanted to touch him but he was too lost in the moment to speak. 

He was close to coming. 

His chest was against Rick's now, his small tongue prodding from the inside of his wet mouth to lick slowly across his lips. Their eyes met but Morty didn't stop. Instead, he held his gaze as he lazily spread his slick tongue along his teeth and upper lip. 

Another groan hit Morty's ears and Rick's eyes rolled back as he attempted to slow the roll of Morty's hips, his grip now like vices.

"F-Fu-fuck, Morty," Rick growled. He was pushing him back now creating a bit of space but Morty knew it was just so he could think clearly. 

Morty smiled innocently, his teeth baring as once again his tongue came to wash across the white surfaces. 

"What's wrong, Rick?" he asked, his eyelashes fluttering up at the flushed and damn near panting older man. "Don't you like me anymore?" Morty's eyebrow rose as he swayed a little closer only to earn a tight squeeze on his hips. 

The older man attempted to close his eyes, a deep breath now being sucked passed his lips as it was obvious he was attempting to calm himself. 

"Ri-" Morty began but Rick's forehead came down bumping into Morty's. It wasn't hard but it was enough to silence him momentarily.

"Morty- You're drunk." Rick finally answered after what seemed like an eternity. "I- I did what you-you wan- what you asked, Morty." He rubbed his head against Morty's. 

A pout pursed Morty's lips and he leaned up on his tippy toes once more but this time to place the softest of kisses against Rick's lips. 

Morty didn't know if he was drunk or not anymore. Hell, he didn't even know what was happening between the two of them. In his mind he just wanted to see what it was like, to feel what it was like to be on the receiving end of Rick Sanchez's affections and that was exactly what he got. But somewhere between wanting to see what it felt like and needing it, Morty found a new object. He didn't just want to be a one-time flirt, no he wanted to be the only one Rick ever flirted with. Morty wanted to be the last and the way Rick was staring down at him with eyes blown like black saucers, he knew it wouldn't take too much.  
Rick was the one who yanked back out of the small and innocent kiss, his hand rubbing over his lips as if it had offended him but Morty knew otherwise. He saw the way Rick's eyes ballooned with lust and felt the twitch on his hips. 

"Morty- F-fuck, you can't just- Why're you kissing-" Rick was stuttering more than usual, obviously his emotions getting the better of him in this instance, a really rare sight to behold. "You can't- I'm your grandfather, Morty. You could be with anyone- anyone else, jess-Jessica, Morty."

He was really flustered, waving his arms around like a lunatic but Morty just knew it was for show. He watched for a bit before walking over and touching Rick's face. He wanted this all to end now. Morty didn't want to pretend like his life revolved around some high school girl or that he didn't have feelings for a man that he had been traveling with day in and day out. It was too hard to deny these things anymore. Rick proved he cared on more than one occasion, now it was Morty's turn. 

"Rick-" He breathed, as he cupped the older man's face, turning his attention completely on him. "Rick, shut up." 

Rick's eyes widened and appeared hostile but all was silenced as Morty once again leaned up and placed the sweetest of kisses against Rick's lips. His tongue gently swiped along Rick's lips tasting the delicious fruit of the shot and the bitterness of the whiskey from his flask. 

Morty was in heaven, his toes curling as he wanted more. He wanted Rick to kiss him back to feel what he was feeling.

The kiss was a short one, abrupt and not much returned as Rick was yanking space once again between them. 

"Listen, Morty, you little shit, You- you can't just fucking- Kissing me isn't an answer." Rick looked around the room as he said the last part, his voice lowering an octave before he moved in closer. "That- this isn't a solution, Morty. Why- why the fuck do you want to- want an old man, Morty?"'

Sucking in a breath, Morty looked up at Rick. He was getting annoyed. Yes, he sort of just sprung this on Rick and he DID understand why Rick was so confused but he was far too light headed to delve in on the greater details of things. 

Morty didn't know a lot of things. He didn't know why he was born into this family, he didn't know why he had to be the grandson of an egomaniac genius whose only goal in life was to fuck up everyone else's and he sure as fuck didn't know why he had some kind of pervy attraction to a man at least four times his age. He never really thought about those kinds of things and often times tried not to dive too deep into his own coming of age atrocities that presented themselves. 

As of right now, there were only three undeniable truths in the world. Morty liked Rick. He wanted Rick and only Rick and he wanted Rick to only want him. 

All of this talking hurt his brain and in the long run, it was denying the inevitable. Morty was tired of dancing around this. He just wanted to feel it, to be important to Rick. 

A frown painted Morty's lips.

"I- I Li-like you, Rick. You- You ever thought about, about- you ever consider that? Ever cross your- your stupid mind, huh, Ri-rick?" Morty puffed his cheeks up in anger. He now reached out grabbing Rick by the lab coat, scrunching it in his fist. "You- you ever, no, you-you never think of anyone but you-you always- You just go along like you are so smart- but-" He shook his head. "You-" 

Morty could feel the lump in his chest and something in him told him to let it go. 

Dammit, alcohol must really make him weepy because the tears were already pricking to his eyelids.

Morty swallowed, a sniffle escaping him as he looked up to meet Rick's confused and taken back face. 

"Why- Why don't you-you like me, Rick?" Tears bubbled to his eyelids and Morty blinked, his one hand releasing now Rick's jacket to wipe at his eye. "Why, Rick? I-I-I just- I just want to be- to make you proud. I want you to look at me and-and only me, Rick." Another fat tear dribbled down his cheek as he shook like a kitten in the rain, his body now closing in on itself as anxiety returned to its home. 

Morty sighed, everything was always the same in the end. Rick would always be the same Rick and him the same Morty. Their paths while being infinite and expansive, weren't meant to intersect. 

Another tear glided along his cheek and he let out a shaky and more sobering sigh than before. Alcohol made him feel terrible. It washed him between feeling happiness, feeling as if he could do or say anything and then drowning him in the realization that he was still just stupid Morty and when it boiled down to it, he was just as unimportant as before. 

His birthday had all come to a screeching halt now and he wanted nothing else. Morty didn't want to drink or dance anymore. He just wanted to go home. He could have Rick wipe his memory. He was good at taking away those things and well, Rick would pretend like nothing ever happened. He was even better at that. 

Tilting his head, he let out a defeated sigh. 

Morty was about to speak when Rick's thumb brushed along his cheek, It wiped away some of the wetness from his tears and when Morty looked up into Rick's face, he saw a softness.

"Don't cry, Babe." Rick whispered as he reached out and pulled Morty gently against him, "Who- who cries in clubs, Morty? Come- come on now. Stop-" He continued to press Morty's head to his shoulder, his own body completely ridged, "You're just- you're getting worked up over nothing. Who- who said I didn't like you, Morty?"

Another sniffle sounded from the boy as he rubbed his face against Rick's chest, "I know you don't. You- you act like I'm a freak. I just- I just want to be important to you, Rick." 

Morty broke at that moment, all of those years of pent up sadness releasing like floodgates as the first sob tumbled from his lips. Morty gripped tight onto Rick's jacket as he whimpered into it, his tears soaking into the white fabric.

"Just make- make me feel important, Rick." His voice came out paper thin, wavering as Morty trembled against all of the anxiety, the stupidity, all of his wrongs that weighed him down to this earth.  
Morty knew this wasn't about Rick loving him or about him being better than those people who Rick gave himself to; No, it was more about knowing that they were better than him. They were good enough to have Rick completely; they were important enough to feel Rick break beneath them, fill them and consume them and yet he was left drifting in the empty and starless space, forever to be unimportant, forgotten and stupid. 

Another tearful sob shook through him, swallowed by the thudding of the music but Rick seemed to stand among it, his arms wrapped tight as he silently held Morty to his chest. He was no longer speaking or consoling him. Instead, he seemed to listen, take it in, quiet and still. 

"I- I just- I want to be like those girls, Ri-rick-" Morty cried, his fingers shaking more as he tightened his grip into Rick's jacket, "I-I just want to- I told myself if I-I was like them, you would love- love me, Rick."  
Morty looked up to see Rick staring down at him blank but his face was soft, his eyes tender and loving, a look Morty often missed in the eyes of his own family. 

"Let's go, Morty-"

Rick bent down then in that instant and scooped Morty into his arms. Morty sighed laying his head against his shoulder.

He didn't want to fight anymore and the alcohol in him said that it would just end in more tears. Morty knew his point had gotten across and wherever they were going or whatever was going to happen, it was out of his control now. 

Morty had just now and officially laid everything out on the table. There were no more secrets, no more hidden feelings of anything. His point was made and while the reasons he had for liking Rick weren't the noblest they were the most honest. Everyone liked someone for a reason and well, Morty's just happened to be selfish. 

His arm wrapped lazily around Rick's shoulder now and he sniffled one or two more times. Morty could tell they were leaving the club now, the rhythm of Rick's feet padding the cement almost a lullaby for him to fall asleep to. A yawn took him as he nuzzled closer. Things would be better at home. 

As the pair exited, the alien garbled a goodbye and something that sounded like a Happy birthday. He waved them off with a flap of an arm tentacle and Rick began across the parking lot.  
The stretch seemed a lot shorter now that Morty wasn't walking it, in fact, Rick's steps carried them quickly and efficiently in a much less amount of time than if Morty was running after him.  
Once they reached the Spaceship and the music of the club faded to distant thuds and the rumbling of loose pebbles on the sidewalk, Rick beeped open the overhead doors. 

Morty didn't move as Rick leaned him in, wordlessly setting him on the leather seat. Tilting his head to the side, he let out a sigh. Morty knew this was Rick's way of saying they were going home and he was over whatever had happened. 

Fluttering his eyes closed, he sighed as the soft drowsiness of being drunk washed over him. Morty hadn't realized it until now but his eyes were heavy, drooping closed. The cool of the window felt nice against his feverish face and he began to think of better times. 

Maybe, he would have Rick erase his memory when they got home. 

Morty drifted away against the glass, the rumble of the spaceship stuttering alive beneath him lulling him further away and the vibrating of thumping alien music becoming a distant memory.  
Cracking one eye, Morty looked out at the long and wide expanse of space before him. He gave a sleepy smile, at least in his dreams he could fade away and forget everything. There were no mistakes out there in the endless black, there was only silence and he could finally leave everything behind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings.

Morty awoke later to the sound of silence. He was in his bed covered as if all of what had happened earlier was just a dream. The room around him was lit in very dull glow, one that said the sun was up high above the roof of his house. It had to be somewhere after four pm but he tried not to focus so much on the time as at this point it was irrelevant.

Everything seemed so surreal. It was as if Morty was just waking up like every other day. Even now his limbs were still deliciously numb from sleep and his bed, the same comfortable one that it had always been.

Everything was calm and quiet around him, not the calamity he was expecting to wake up to.

Morty frowned.

There wasn't a single clue as to prove that this morning had really happened. He didn't even have a headache, there were no marks, nothing, but the longer he focused on it, the more short lived his groggy delirium became.

Images of last night flooded back to him, sweeping across his mind in unsettling washes. Morty could remember now clinging to Rick, begging him to flirt with him, to tease him, to make him his.

He felt nauseous.

Rolling onto his side, Morty was greeted by a slow burn which buried deep in his stomach; It was an all consuming numbness and realization that he had in fact been rejected last night and probably ruined everything between his grandfather and him.

Morty pulled his knees to his chest trying his best to kill the ache that wriggled through his limps. He hated this. It was worse than ever being rejected by Jessica because Jessica wasn't his grandfather.

Morty knew deep down inside of himself that what he was feeling was wrong and Rick's reaction was completely and totally justified in itself. Rick had went out of his way to throw him the birthday party of birthday parties and he had ruined it by asking too much, by being too needy. Morty knew none of this was Rick's fault and yet he could help but blame him a little.

All Morty wanted was to feel loved, to feel important by Rick. Rick was a constant in his boring life and yet he still seemed to abandon him, use him, leave him behind at any chance. It was as Rick had always said, Morty was replaceable, all of them were.

He felt it again, stronger, more potent, the sadness that built like walls in his chest.

A small sob bubbled to his lips but this time he scolded himself to hold it in. He wasn't drunk any more and he sure as fuck wasn't going to keep crying over this. Morty steeled himself in his bed, his eyes glaring at the wall as if it were his enemy. He knew he had made a fool out of himself but he also knew that if he hadn't had been drunk that night he never would have confessed.

Fisting his hands in his blankets, Morty squeezed his eyes tightly closed. He wanted to be strong for this, he wanted to pretend like everything was fine again and Rick wasn't going to regard him as some kind of freak.

The blatant uneasiness that now nestled into his bones brought a shaking, trembling sickness throughout his body; it was one that made him feel out of control like he was gripping onto the brink sanity itself.

Anxiety was never anything new to Morty. He lived it, he breathed it and most of all it was him. It was a blistering reminder that at the end of everything he was still Morty and no amount of anything would change that but the club had solidified that long before this.

This though seemed different, this was a blow to his almost nonexistent self-esteem, a brutal " _fuck you_ " in the face of every piece of him that he had managed to build up. Morty knew he was wrong but it didn't quell the ache, it didn't calm the dead that seemed to spread from his stomach up telling him that nobody could love him like Rick.

Rick was intelligent, an all knowing god that dragged him along like a puppy on a leash and still Morty wanted nothing more than to wag his tail and be told he was good. Rick had him wound so tightly around his fingers he was suffocating.

Morty blinked as if that realization was the epiphany he was waiting for. Slowly, his eyebrows lowered over his eyes as they widened to the ceiling.

It seemed simple as if it were dangling before Morty's face the entire time.

He was suffocating and Rick, Rick was profiting off of that. Rick never once gave back what Morty wanted, he only caved when he had to, but even then it was never to Morty's complete satisfaction.

As if on a string Morty sat upright. His face was now facing the door as he once again steeled himself to the new thoughts he was forcing through his ever overthinking brain.

Frowning, he turned to get out of the bed. He decided now and at this moment that he was going to suck it up.

The floor was cold as he rose standing off of his bed. Morty had always hated the cold against his feet but today it didn't seem as bad.

Sniffing a bit, he walked over to his dresser and began to fish out what seemed like the only clothing he owned, a yellow t-shirt and a pair of blue skinny jeans. Morty dawned them quickly before slipping on a pair of socks. His mind felt numb now as the only thought he allowed to plague him was that he wanted food.  
His stomach growled as if agreeing and he opened the door, leaving behind the dark and lonely room for the lively chatter he could hear downstairs.

"Is he awake?"

"I think he's coming!"

Their voices, Summer's and his mother's rang to his ears as he stood at the top of the stairs, once again the overwhelming ache in his stomach begging him to return back to his bed.

Morty took his first step and then pushed himself forward, a smile crossing his lips as he came around the corner of the stair well, his eyes half-mooning in his pretend happiness.

"There's Morty, God, I thought you were gonna sleep all day." Summer spoke, her voice bored and drawn out as she leaned against the kitchen table. "Like who sleeps all day on their birthday?"

"Shh- Summer, it's- It's Morty's birthday, he can sleep-" Beth hushed Summer, shooting her a look before walking across to look down at Morty. "You did sleep a long time though. Are you feeling alright?"

Her hand moved as if she were about to touch Morty's forehead but she didn't. Instead it hovered for a second before dropping back to her side, a pitying smile crossed her lips.

Morty exaggerated a yawn, anything to keep from responding as he walked passed the two of them. Every part of him said not to engage, not to answer. He didn't want to come off as if something was wrong.

He crossed the room into the kitchen, stopping by the cupboard where the cups were held. It would be hard to speak if he were drinking.

Withdrawing a glass from inside, he frowned at it.

_It was already hard to speak._

The thought almost made him scoff as he closed his eyes for a split second. He had done enough talking yesterday and look where that left him. Morty didn't even want to look at his grandfather, even be in his presence.

His fingers were shaking as the uneasiness began to seep it's way back through him.

Morty thought he was strong. What happened to his hard speech about not letting Rick take advantage of him?

He sat the glass down, furrowing his brow to it, wanting the empty hum of the room to be just that. He didn't want to people any more. He just wanted to be alone.  
It was a crushing feeling to be in a room full of people who wanted nothing more than to celebrate his life and yet all he wanted to do was curl up and well-

Morty shook his head, a thing that he found himself doing more often than not. He needed to get himself together. He wasn't going to let this ruin him.  
Rick wasn't going to ruin him.

"Morty?" Beth's voice tried from behind him, it sounded slightly worried but there was no sound of her approach. "Are you still tired?"

Morty painted on another smile as he tilted his head to look up at her.

"I'm- I'm fine." He breathed, turning on the faucet and filling the cup. Morty stared back at the water, watching it overflow before pulling it away.

He sighed.

"Maybe Grandpa kept him up late last night." Summer said, her voice playful and flippant, she had no idea what had happened and her tone definitely wouldn't be that happy if she knew what a freak he was.

"You know, I haven't seen grandpa in a while. Should I get him?"

Even though his back was to her Morty's ears perked to what she was saying. As if on cue, the feeling of dread immediately filled him to the brim. Panic surged and all Morty could think was, he didn't want to see Rick.

The thought of seeing Rick, of hearing his voice was terrifying. Morty turned quickly, his eyes wide.

Summer was pushing off from the table as if she were going to leave and Morty's anxiety skyrocketed.

Jerking forward, he half-yelled, "NO!"

The momentum of his movements slid the glass from his grip and it fell to the linolieum smashing hard on the floor; glass shattered, exploding a thousand different ways, water spilling over everything else.

It was mess.

_Everything was a mess._

Everyone was quiet, staring at Morty, confused. The air was tense and Morty was soaking it in, shaking to the feeling that he had just had an outburst in front of everyone.

Tears felt as if they were going to well up behind his lids but he blinked quickly, wanting to right the only thing he had control of, the broken pieces.

"I'm- I'm sorry." He stuttered, dropping to his knees, the water soaking into his pant legs. "I didn't mean-"

The panic was gone now, replaced by embarrassment as he began to fish the little pieces of glass from the water, picking them up delicately enough as to hold them within his palm.

"I'm- I'm really sorry." He whispered it again, bent over now, trying to pick up the broken glass.

The urge to cry became ever present, a ball of emotion lodged into his throat, his vision blurring as he grabbed another piece from the floor.

"It's really okay, Morty." Beth answered now,her voice softer than ever as she had moved to grab a broom and dustpan from the pantry. "Accidents happen. It's- it's okay." She began to sweep up the pieces, helping as Morty picked up the smaller ones.

Morty began to relax a little but he still didn't look toward his mother. He knew he couldn't fain a smile.

_Why was everything falling apart?_

The door to the garage opened, banging slightly against the wall behind it. A burp followed as Rick grumbled, "What's- What's with all the noise?"

Morty stiffened immediately to the sound, his entire body freezing as he turned back to focus blindly on the task at hand. Eventually he would toss the stray pieces in the trash, no longer cradling them in his palm, so he could inspect more thoroughly. Anything to get his mind off of Rick whose eyes he could feel burning into him.

"Eh- Morty dropped a cup and broke it. You know what kind of klutz he is." Summer chimed in, a laugh in her voice. She snapped her gum a bit casually.

Rick grunted in response.

"Probably shouldn't pick up glass with your hands, Mor-Morty, you'll cut- you'll get hurt."

Morty looked up, a little startled to see Rick so close to him. He was still some feet away but he was looking down at him, emotionless, his eyes foggy from whatever alcohol he had been drinking.

He couldn't find it in him to respond. Morty wasn't strong and seeing Rick like this before him just reminded him of what a piece of shit he really was.

Rick rejected him.

Reaching for the last big piece that was visible, Morty grabbed it, only to hiss and drop the piece as it sliced into his finger tip. Blood began to ooze from the small vertical cut, dribbling down his finger into his palm.

It wasn't a deep cut but being on such a thin-skinned area the blood gushed out like it was.

Morty paled a little, never one to enjoy the sight of his own blood, his hand immediately wrapping around his finger to hold it.

"Shit." he breathed, rising to stand but a strong long-fingered hand had already claimed his upper arm hauling him to his feet.

Glancing upward, Morty stared at Rick's face and then back down at his hand which clutched his arm like he owned it.

Morty didn't know what to say but he did know he didn't want Rick's hand on him. Morty tensed a bit, attempting to pull away but it was to no avail, Rick's hand was stead fast on his arm.

Rick was frowning, "Sh-shit, Morty, what- what did I say? You don't listen. Just- Jesus Christ, Morty." He was pulling him now, yanking him toward the garage as if things were the same, as if Morty wanted to be out there and alone with him.

Morty dug his heels into the ground, his eyes widened, "No- NO, R-Rick, It's just- It's just a cut. I can- I can deal with it myself, _Jeeze_." His voice was a lot more hostile than before, almost adding a hateful tone to it as he yanked back, not quite strong enough to completely detach himself from Rick's steel grip.

A moment of silence passed, one with Rick staring down at Morty, eyebrow lowered in annoyance.

"I didn't ask, Morty." Rick suddenly spoke, attempting to pull him forward toward the garage once again. "Come on."

Morty grit his teeth this time, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at Rick.

"I'm- I'm not going with you- you, Ri-Rick." He used his free hand to pry the grip from his upper arm, his hand wrapping around the warmth that still lingered behind it.

He just wanted to be important to him.

Rick appeared to pause once again, his face confused,anger in the depths of his eyes. It seemed as if he were going to say something but then he looked between the others and grunted, turning on his heel.

Morty watched as the man left without a word and he realized for all the pride he felt for standing up to Rick, It sure did feel like a loss.

It felt wrong to treat Rick that way.

His fingers unfurled from his upper arm now, the heat having already been replaced by his own. He looked down at his still bleeding finger.

"Why didn't you just go with grandpa Rick?" Summer asked, looking down at his finger. She had crossed the room to stop in front of him, her eyebrows lowered just as confused. "He coulda healed it, Morty. What're you mad at him or something?"

Morty didn't look up but rather curled his bloody finger on itself, smearing it along his palm.

"It's just a cut, Summer." He attempted to make his voice light but gave up half way through and walked toward the stair case.

Morty could deal with cuts, it was the scars that he hated the most.


	3. Spaces between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you soooo much for reading this!! I really appreciate all of the kudos and comments. You literally kill me guys. <3 
> 
> I love you so much!

Morty took his time cleaning the cut. He ran it beneath cold water, something that was said to shrink the blood vessels and stop the bleeding. Honestly he couldn't remember if that was a fact or not, surely if it wasn't Rick would have corrected him. Rick always enjoyed ruining the few things he had that made him feel normal.  
But this time it wasn't Rick bursting his bubble.

Morty shook his head, glaring at the water once again. His arm cold but still tingling from the grip Rick had had on his arm when he had tried to help a few minutes before. It was strange to think that he could remember it so vividly and yet there was such a large mental disconnect with everything. It didn't feel like he had only minutes before completely made a scene and wrenched himself away from the only man who had ever pretended he was worth something. No, right now, Morty felt a little numb, a radiating, penetrating numbness that flooded beneath his flesh. 

He had to be strong. 

Touching his upper arm, he dropped his gaze from that of the mirror. Morty didn't want to look at himself, to see the boy that he was, with tear stains streaking his cheeks. 

A small snort passed from his nose. He was so melodramatic. 

Why couldn't he just let it go? 

Rick's face appeared burned into his mind, those dark eyes watching him, narrowing as Morty yanked himself from him. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and whispered, "Just get over it, Morty." 

He held his finger a little more determiner beneath the water. 

Despite everything Morty didn't feel as if he were grieving over his wreck of a birthday or the club. No, He was over that. 

It was something else, something much more tangible. 

Morty just wanted things to go back to how they were. He wanted to forget because he hated this confrontation. Morty hated the fact that he had to admit to himself that the feelings he was drowning in were no longer that of a whimsical child chasing his grandfather's dreams. Those days had long since been distorted, shattered when Morty's feelings edged over the blurred line of right and wrong. He was just jealous. He just wanted to feel important and yet here he was shattering everything he had with rash decisions that built higher walls between them. 

Morty regretted it, hated it more and more as he stared down at the blood. He just wanted things to be normal again. He just wanted them to be fixed. Why did Rick have to touch him? Why did he have to show he cared?

A bit more blood oozed from the cut, dribbling along his finger to drip against the stark white of the sink. It splashed crimson, marring everything that was once pure and clean. 

_Fuck-_

Morty hung his head sucking in another breath as he attempted to ward away the feelings of pain and guilt he felt. This was his fault, the cut, the glass breaking, Rick's face when he pulled away. Why couldn't he just take it all back? Why couldn't he just pretend like nothing ever happened? 

Pushing his head forward he leaned it against the glass of the mirror. His eyes fluttered closed wetly as the tears stayed, lining the brim of his eyes. What happened to his big talk before? What happened to the Morty that said he was going to stand up to Rick? 

He did stand up to Rick though. 

Morty had for the first time in his life placed his foot down and demanded that he do something on his own. But that wasn't a victory; it was a cold and desperate reaction of a teenager who had been rejected. He didn't want Rick to give up on him but he didn't want to see him. Morty didn't want to look at his face and let Rick know just how badly he had been hurt. 

He rubbed his face even more so into the cool of the glass, the pressure against his forehead opposing everything else that he felt. 

Morty wished he could push it deeper, break the glass, break himself, forget the thoughts and apologize. 

The tears brimmed again and like every other time in Morty's life he came to the stark realization that he had no control over anything in his life. All of this was coming in a matter of a few hours, all after waking up to the fact that none of this was a dream and he had confessed that he had some sort of sexual thoughts to the man who was his very own grandfather. 

Morty took a deep breath now, turning off the water as he backed up. He refused to meet the reflection of his face. He didn't want to see what a wreck he really was.

"Morty?" His name followed by a gentle knock on the door. "Morty, are you alright? Is it bad? Maybe you should see Grandpa Rick?" 

A sigh escaped Morty as he opened the door, staring at Summer who looked a little more worried than usual. Her red eyebrows were knit over her eyes as she was frowning. 

"Mor-"

He sighed, "Look, I'm fine." Wrapping his arm around his chest, he hugged it to himself. "I've been hurt worse than just a-a little cut, Summer. I- I think I'll live." Morty turned as if he were going to leave, his hand still wrapped around his arm, holding where Rick's hand had previously been. 

"Morty." Summer tried again, reaching out and stopped him this time by taking a hold of his wrist. " What's- What happened between you and grandpa Rick?"  
looking down at the thin hand that held his wrist, Morty frowned. 

"Morty, please." She pleaded, a little bit more sisterly than anything he had ever heard. Summer had her moments but this was boarding on odd. He hated that everything had to become like this because of him. 

Pulling his wrist from her grip, Morty sighed, "It's nothing, Summer. Why don't you just- just leave me alone." He turned this time determined to leave. He wasn't going to give her a chance to stop him. 

Morty just needed to be alone. He needed to sort this out on his own. Sure, there was a part of him that wanted to sweep everything under the rug, that wanted to pretend like his feelings were so easily folded in a tightly locked safe never to be seen again. But it wasn't the case. 

Morty knew he was going to have to deal with this one way or another and the only thing that could fix this was figuring out why his self-worth was intrinsically tied to Rick. 

It was suffocating and he sucked in another breath, almost forgetting that Summer was at his back, silently watching. 

Walking toward his bedroom, he entered and shut the door abruptly behind him. A blatant sign that he didn't want her to follow him and he didn't want to talk about it. 

He cared but he didn't and that was hard. Morty couldn't remember the last time he didn't care about anything and he was so far stuck in his feelings. 

Morty laid down on the bed and sighed as he placed his finger into his mouth. He didn't taste any blood there but the warmth of his spit seemed to soothe the burn of the cut a bit. 

He didn't want to act like that, to treat Summer so bad. Hell, he didn't want to treat anyone bad. Everything was just so fucked up and he was only making things worse. 

Closing his eyes, he sighed a bit. He wasn't tired but he knew if he tried he could drift off into some kind of sleep.

Sleep came rather easily as if it had been waiting to take him from this crap fest that was currently his life. But the sleep wasn't good, it was restless and filled with pictures of Rick smiling down at him or touching his hair. 

This Rick would mutter words of encouragement and tell him he was worth more than any of the other's he had been with before and the morty, that was him, would cry because he knew it wasn't true.

"Morty?" 

A groan left his lips and he pushed his head harder back into the pillows. Morty had woken up so easily he began to wonder if he had even been asleep.  
His eyes felt heavy, burdened by the noise and the real world. 

Morty just wanted to sleep.

His door opened without his answer, creaking and then bumping back against the wall behind it lightly. 

Morty could have no privacy in this house apparently, no time to grieve, to get over anything. He felt angry again.

"What do you want, SUMMER?" Morty snapped, shooting upright from the bed, his eyes attempting to narrow on her but only widening when he saw it was Summer and Rick standing in his doorway. 

"R-Rick?" He breathed, already it felt as if his air was being sapped from his lungs and his body broke into a chill. "Wha-what are you- What do you-" He couldn't find the right words to say. He couldn't force them out of his mouth. 

Summer frowned, looking between the two, before looking up at Rick "Go talk to him, Grandpa Rick, Whatever is going on between you two needs to be fixed now." She paused to push Rick forward, moving him into the room. 

Morty wanted to protest, to tell Rick to leave but with Summer shutting the door and leaving the two in the silence was rather final. 

He shifted uncomfortably beneath the covers and pushed them back a little. 

"Rick-" He began as the silence was more deafening than anything.

Morty couldn't take this. Being alone in his room with Rick was too much and he still had so many of his own feelings to sort out he didn't even know if he was ready to talk about anything. 

"Look-" He breathed after a short pause, his eyes never lifting to meet his grandfather who stood still as a statue by the doorway. Morty could feel it. Rick's eyes were penetrating into his soul and it was unnerving every part of him. 

He sucked in another breath, gathering the courage or whatever else it was he was trying to say. 

"I just-"

Rick sighed and cleared his throat cutting Morty off. "Look-" Rick spoke, his voice startling Morty enough to cause their eyes to meet. "We can- uh- Morty, this is a difficult situation for the both of us." 

Morty's eyes widened and he felt pained and a little panicked but it was nothing compared to the sudden anger at those words. He squinted hard at Rick as he waited for the anxiety to bury the anger he felt. 

A dry humorless anger quaked in him but for some reason, Morty just wanted to laugh. Rick didn't know the meaning of difficult when it came to this. He could scoff at the idea. Rick could have anyone. He had probably never faced any sort of rejection in his entire life and yet- 

He sucked in another breath as he sat more upright, this time twisting his fingers into the blankets. 

"You? It's difficult on you, Rick?" Morty snapped, breaking as the thought came to a bubbling head. "You weren't the one who was reje- humiliated, Rick- I just-" The tears as if spring-loaded popped to his lids and he dashed them away with a wipe of his hand. 

Rick looked up, his face blank to Morty's sudden and angry explosion but he didn't speak. 

"You- do you know how- It was hard, Rick." Morty broke, his eyes dropping down toward the blankets that were now twisted in a death grip within his fingers. "I didn't just decide to like you. You- you made me this way." 

A soft sigh escaped the older man and Morty didn't realize he had moved until a pressure was on his bed. 

Rick was sitting on the end of it, his hands over his face and then he dragged them back through his hair. He was staring off toward the wall now, his brow knit hard over his eyes. He didn't look toward Morty.

Morty, I didn't do this to you." He began, his eyes boring into the ceiling. "I-"

"Like hell you didn't!" Morty snapped as he swiveled his head to look at Rick more so, his lips pushed in a tight line. "You- you made it so I couldn't have- I have no one because of you, Rick. You- you took everything, ruined everything. You made- you made it-it so all I had was you and you made me wan- need you."  
Morty turned his face away ashamed by his words. He twisted the blankets harder before shoving them angrily away from his legs. He needed to get out of this room. There was no fighting with Rick Sanchez. He was right even when he was wrong and Morty just didn't have the strength. 

"You- you know what, Rick, forget it." Morty was yanking himself from the bed, rising and walking past the older man who still stared up at him blankly. "There is no talking to you, Rick, you- you don't get it." 

Rick didn't attempt to stop Morty as he walked from the door and passed his sister who was near the stairway, her hand poised on the wall. 

"Did you-" Summer began, her face still a little worried. She appeared stiff but attempted a smile. 

"Leave it alone, Summer." Morty spoke coldly. He wished she would have just left it alone. There wasn't talking when it came to Rick. There wasn't anything and he didn't know why he even tried.

Morty was pulling on his shoes as he made his way toward the door. He didn't know exactly where he was going and why all he knew was that he needed to get out of the house and think. 

Everything was so fucked up and Summer trying to fix what was between Rick and Morty was only making things worse. 

"It wasn't his fault." Morty mocked Rick's words from earlier as he stood and opened the front door walking out into the fresh air. 

It was dark now, the sky overcast with a heavy flood of storm clouds. Morty didn't seem to mind though as he stepped from the porch out into the driveway and continued forward. 

He didn't know where he was going but it felt nice to just be going. 

The air hung heavy with the scent of rain, another indication a storm was coming. 

Morty sighed, rubbing his hands along his face. He had been walking for a while now, ten or twenty minutes passing as he left his house behind him.  
There was so much for him to think about, to do. He didn't know if he could make things up with Rick, if he could face him after everything. Rick didn't seem to care anyway, his face blank and void of everything as always. 

Morty paused, his hands wiping across his face as he sucked in another breath telling himself for the millionth time this was fucked up. It felt sticky, almost humid, the moisture in the air clinging to his flesh like a second skin. He rubbed lightly at his arm, deciding whether or not to keep walking. 

A distant rumble of thunder sounded far off and Morty sighed hard as he remained rooted in the same spot he was before. 

What was he going to do? Everything was just becoming worse by the minute and here he was running out of his house as if he solved anything. 

Morty could remember the look on his mother's face, the slight worry that seemed so uncharacteristic. Then there was Summer who was just trying to fix whatever was broken between Rick and him. He was tearing his family apart over a stupid crush, over his stupid need to be loved and cared for by the only man who loves no one. 

His eyes squeezed closed and this time he allowed his knees to go lax. Morty sank to the ground, sitting on the sidewalk, his forehead pressing to his knees. 

He just wanted all of this to end and yet he was the only one who was making things worse. Morty was the one who acted like a fool when Rick tried to help him. He was the one who ran out of the house after getting angry. 

Why did things have to be like this? His birthday was supposed to be nice, to celebrate him being alive and well. Rick had went out of his way for him and he was the one who ruined it by getting drunk and admitting something that should have stayed hidden. 

A soft sigh escaped him and for the first time in his sixteen years of life, he realized that maybe he should have just let it go. 

Rick would never see him as important. He would never hold him high over the others because Rick didn't care. 

Morty's fingers wrapped around his upper arm mimicking the way Rick's fingers had held him. He could still feel them, burned into his flesh as if it were a permanent scar. 

Don't be weak, Morty. 

He closed his eyes. A part of him knew he had to get over it but the hurt was deeply embedded in him, it rotted his core and hung off of his bones like moss. 

He just wanted to be important.

"Fuc- Fuck, Morty, there- there you are." Rick panted looking down at Morty, his hands bracing on his knees. "I just- fuck, you ran- you got all the way out here for- for what, Morty? We- we're supposed to be having a conversation, yeah?"

Morty's eyes lifted slowly to the panting older man who was red in the face, his eyebrows screwed together in a focused and frustrated way.  
He was confused so he didn't speak or respond, rather he stared looking up toward the older man blankly. 

Morty didn't know what to say but he felt strange. The tiniest bit of butterflies began to swirl in his stomach as the realization that Rick, Rick Sanchez had chased him out here hit him. 

He swallowed, determined that this meant nothing but in truth it meant everything. 

How many times had Rick actually followed him anywhere without argument? 

A part of him knew better than to think anything of it. Rick had probably been coerced, forced to follow him. He would never do anything like this one his own. 

"Don't just- don't look at me like that, Morty." Rick grumbled, his hand forcing back through his hair as he looked up toward the rain darkening sky. "Come, come on, it's gonna rain and you-"

"No." Morty answered, dragging his eyes away from the older man back to the ground. "I'm- I'm good, Rick, you go back." He sighed again, his arms wrapping around his knees. 

Rick huffed, a sound of annoyance Morty was all too familiar with as he crouched down. "Listen, Mor- Morty, I told you- I'm telling you we were talking. You- you don't even give me a chance. I'm- I'm your grandpa, Morty."

That stung a little. It was as if he were trying to remind him, as if Morty had forgotten that he was his grandfather. 

He scowled. 

"I know what you are- Ri-rick, Why- why are you tell- Why are you here, Rick? Huh? What- what exactly- What's so important you chase me out here? Hm? You-" Morty had to take a breath but it didn't stop the onslaught of emotions which poured out. "You are gonna tell me how- how it's not your fault, Rick? How I'm the fucked up one because I just want- because I'm the one who-" He choked it off, tears welling once more as he dropped his head back down onto his knees.  
Morty didn't understand this and when Rick follows him like this it gives him the tiniest bit of false hope that maybe he didn't fuck things up as much as he did. But then he could see the way Rick was staring at him, the way his mouth was pressed into a tight line and his eyes were hard watching him.  
He hated this. 

"I just want things- I- I'm sorry, Rick." Morty broke, his voice becoming paper-thin and quiet. "I'm sorry, I fucked everything up." He hiccuped once as he buried his head into his knees. "I never- I didn't want to be like this, Rick. I-I never wanted to like you like this." 

The tears came freely as he buried his face into his thighs. He was waiting to be reprimanded, to be made fun of. But it never came. 

Silence hung heavy between them as only another distant rumble of thunder barreled somewhere far away. 

Morty sighed, a sound that all too often seemed to leave him. His tears were still rolling down his face as he looked up at Rick. 

"Can't we- Can we fix this, Rick?" He whispered it, his eyes squinting a bit as a few more tears squeezed between his cheeks. "I just want-"  
Rick's eyes bore into his but his face remained black, unreadable and impassive. 

"Morty-" He spoke, his voice softer than before, almost caring. It hurt. "Morty, We- I-" Rick looked down, his eyes dropping from Morty's face to his shoes. "I'm confused, Morty." 

'Of course, he was confused. Why wouldn't he be when his grandson is admitting to liking him?' Morty degraded himself. 

Rick continued, unaware of Morty's thoughts, "This isn't normal. I'm- I'm an old man, Morty, a drunk..." He paused and looked away, "I'm your grandfather. You- You could have- you could have anyone. Why me, Morty?" 

That was the question of the year, one that if Morty knew the answer he would gladly explain it for the both of them but he didn't. He couldn't explain why the thought of being with Rick was the most comforting thing in his life or why all he really craved was for Rick to care for him over all others. 

Morty didn't know the answer to these things. 

"I don't know, Rick." He whispered it, his eyes focused on Rick's brown slacks before him, studying them blindly. "I just- I want..." he sucked in another breath and finally looked up. "I want to be important to- to you, Rick."

Another distant roll of thunder sounded and Rick looked up toward the sky, a frown now painting his features. 

"It's gonna rain soon, Morty." Rick spoke as if he hadn't heard Morty's words. He reached down, his fingers hesitating before taking a hold of his arm and lifting him to his feet. "We should go back."

Sadness gutted Morty as he shook his head, yanking once again from Rick. 

"You can't even- You don't even lis- Why are we talking about this, Rick?" He let out a humorless laugh that sounded more like a sob, "Let's just pretend this never happen-"

Morty's words were cut off with a sudden and very light kiss. It was one that pressed against Morty's lips in such a way that it sucked the very breath from him. 

Immediately tears welled in his eyes and he blinked hard and rapidly pulling back from Rick.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He whispered it as his fingers balled into Rick's chest, gripping hard his lapels. 

Rick's fingers came up and gently thread through Morty's hair, pulling him close and against his chest. 

"I don't know." he answered and for the first time it sounded honest. "I don't know what- what I'm doing, Morty. This- this is new for me." 

A soft sob shook Morty's shoulders as he wrapped his arms around Rick's waist hugging him tightly. 

"I don't know what to do, Rick." He breathed it between sobs, "I don't know why I need you like this. I don't- I don't know how to be different. I just- I want everything back the way- I want it to be easier."

Rick caressed his fingers into his scalp, massaging lightly as he pressed his cheek into the side of his head. 

"I know, Morty. Let's- let's go home." He placed another gentle kiss against Morty's temple as he began to lead him back toward the house. 

Morty felt the gentle droplets of rain which began to pelt down from the heavens. They soaked into his clothing and gliding across his face, washing away any of the remnants of tears which still were. 

It felt almost cleansing, like a renewal. He sighed, laying his head against Rick's shoulder.

Morty felt drained by the time they had made it back to the house and into the garage. His knees felt weak and his heart still hurt. 

"Rick?" He questioned, watching the old man walk over his work station fiddling with something before the hatch on the floor shifted open. 

Morty didn't need to question it any further and he looked up toward Rick who was watching him with a likewise expression.

So this was how it was going to be? Morty sighed as despite everything, he felt relieved. He wouldn't have to live with hurting everyone else with his feelings and Rick could be happy.

"You're going to take the memory?" he asked, already knowing the answer as Rick motioned for him to enter the hatch. Morty moved willingly, his chest a little hollow. 

Rick grunted at him, his hand pressing into the small of his back as he guided him down. 

"What about Summer and mo-" Morty began, the feeling of relief even larger than before. It almost felt like an escape, a way out. He couldn't hate himself if he didn't remember. 

"I'll fix all of it." Rick responded as a soft smile graced his lips. 

Morty couldn't help but stare as he tilted his face upward. He still sat down in the large chair in the center of the room, his legs dangling awkwardly. 

"What about you?" He whispered, looking away from Rick. Morty felt guilty that Rick had to live with knowing how disgusting he had been. But it was all going to be over soon. 

Rick laughed a little but it sounded hollow and sad. "I'll fix it, Morty." He answered as he pulled up the memory eraser, his eyebrow raising. 

Morty opened his eyes to look at Rick one last time and smiled softly, missing the sadness in Rick's eyes. He was just content things would be fixed. There was something almost natural about the way his shoulders sagged against the softness of the chair and his lips relaxed into a soft smile. It was almost as if he had done it a thousand times before. It was comforting. 

Loosening his fingers, Morty didn't have to tell himself to relax as he waited for the wash of numbness to take him. He just waited, anticipating it as it would mean the end of all of this suffering. He knew that maybe his feelings would remain but his actions would be forgotten. Morty wouldn't have to sit in the anxiety of his words and surely he wouldn't have to see the distaste on Rick's face as he looked at him. 

They would be natural again. Things would be as they were and Morty could love Rick as his grandfather. He pretended not to notice the sadness which crept into the put of his stomach.

As he began to relax, there was the smallest of pressures on Morty's lips, the feeling of softer ones against his own and he smiled a secret one to himself as the butterflies began to flit in his stomach. He liked it when things were fixed.

Rick might not regard him as important. He might not see him as something that he could love and cherish but he pitied Morty enough to give him the gift of obliviousness. It was an unhealthy way to cope with rejection but it was one that left no victims. 

And with that Morty's mind slipped into a darkness, a temporary state of unconscious as he drifted between pinpricks of light, an endless empty space that welcomed him like home.

 

\----

Space had always been Morty's favorite, especially when they were hurdling thousands of miles an hour through the cosmos. The endless stretch of beauty which was laid out like a painters canvas. He often found himself lost in the pin prick balls of light which dashed from view as quickly as they had came.There was something relaxing about the endless black, the infinite escape that made Morty feel at home. Perhaps he had just been out here too many times or maybe because it was just something that reminded him so purely of his adventures with Rick. 

Leaning his head against the window, Morty tried to not to focus on how early it was or why Rick had decided they needed to go on an adventure so early but rather on the fact that he was out here with Rick. He liked spending time with Rick and considering the old man forgot his birthday, he did kind of owe him. 

Glancing to the side, Morty gave a small smile as he looked at Rick's excited face. 

While it was true that he liked the way the planets zipped and dipped beneath the ship, he liked more the way Rick spoke to him. It was as if he meant something to him, that he was important to Rick and that made him swell with happiness. Morty wasn't sure what had changed with the older man but all he knew was that Rick made a point now to tell him he was worth something. 

Rick reached out and ruffled Morty's hair hard, pushing his head as he looked away back out the windshield. Morty couldn't help widening his grin as he leaned back, his head pressed into the leather of the spaceships passenger side seat. 

It was strange to think that he could look at a man nearly four times his age and find him beautiful but when he smiled he could rival the moon, the stars and all the spaces between. 


End file.
